


Avenoir

by Anonymous



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: F/M, canon!au, literally just a self insert, tags to be added as i go i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-09-14 00:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16902642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: You're finishing up your semester abroad in Korea with a two week internship at the local hospital in Seoul. One day, you just so happen to meet world famous kpop idol and actor Do Kyungsoo. Turns out this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity happens far more often than you would think.The next fourteen days are filled with not-so-coincidental encounters, and when you finally have to leave, you realize you never want your summer to end.





	1. T-14

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just an author-insert that I write for myself for fun. Please don't get mad or be upset if you can't relate to the MC or don't think it's realistic; of course it's not realistic. I'm writing this for myself as a way to keep me happy when my days are bad. I'm only sharing it here on the off chance that someone else might enjoy it.
> 
> But yeah. The summary is terrible, I'll probably change it later. Enjoy the story and don't expect very frequent updates.

“Have a good day,” you said cheerfully, ushering the old man out of the room. He hobbled his way down the hall, giving you a big smile and words of thanks as he exited to the waiting area. When he was finally out of the room you promptly closed the door behind him and fell back into a chair, sighing heavily.

You checked your watch and let out a groan. It was 4:30 pm, only thirty minutes left in your shift. The first day of your internship had been long; your supervisor had called you in earlier than you were supposed to work, saying they would be short staffed for the rest of the week. So you got up a four that morning in order to start the rounds on the inpatient floors at five. Now you had been at the hospital for just over twelve hours, and you were more than ready to go home.

This isn’t how you expected your semester abroad in Korea to end. You had signed up for the study abroad program with the assumption that you would take the classes you would normally take at your college in America, only in a different country to experience a different culture. Your advisor never mentioned anything about having to do an internship, much less having to do it in _Korea._

And yet here you were, stuck in the country for another two weeks, forced to work in a hospital and interact with people speaking a language you still could only speak at a very mediocre level.

You heard the printer roar to life again and you sighed. Another set of labels popped out of the machine and the phlebotomist at the front desk leaned around the corner with a paper in her hand.

“Ready for another one?” she asked you, waving the requisition in your face.

You held back a sigh and instead gave her a smile. “Sure,” you answered, and plucked the paper from her hands, taking the freshly printed labels with you on your way to the door.

If your Korean speaking skills were mediocre, then your reading skills were practically nonexistent. Sure, you could read the characters, but only if you had hours to kill. You read so slow you were honestly surprised that they even let you do this phlebotomy internship, since it required checking requisitions and reading lab orders. Thankfully the other phlebotomists training you were kind and helped you to read whatever you couldn’t understand.

Running on autopilot, you opened the door before you had given yourself enough time to decipher the characters on the paper. You stood there in the doorway, squinting in confusion at the paper in your hands, trying to remember which characters made which sounds.

“D…Do..Do K…Kyung…Kyungsoo?” you managed to make out. Something about the name sounded familiar. “Do Kyungsoo,” you repeated to yourself, frowning. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d heard it somewhere before. You called out the name again, louder this time, and the lone person in the waiting room stood up from his seat, face obscured by a black baseball cap.

He shuffled up to you quickly, keeping his head low. “You can come right back here,” you said, gesturing to the chair just opposite the door, voice trailing off when he didn’t even acknowledge you and simply stepped into the room without a word.

You closed the door behind you, trying your hardest not to make a face as you turned around and got to work.

“Hi, I’ll be doing your bloodwork today,” you said kindly, reciting what you had learned in class as you tried to make out the foreign symbols on the paper in front of you. “Can you please tell me your full name and date of birth?”

“Do Kyungsoo, January 12th, 1993,” he said almost breathlessly.

“Do you have an arm that you prefer?”

You pushed the armrest down and the man laid his right arm across it silently. The box of latex gloves on your workbench was empty so you checked the cabinets below for a new one. You hurriedly snatched a pair of gloves and snapped them on, the sound causing your patient to turn his head away, his left hand gripping the edge of the chair forcefully.

He was definitely nervous. It wasn’t hard to tell when a patient was. You couldn’t blame him, really. Needles weren’t exactly your favorite either. If you had your way, learning phlebotomy and doing an entire internship for it would not be a part of your degree program.

So you could understand his demeanor and as a result you tried your best to reassure him. “I only have three tubes to collect, so it’ll be over in no time,” you attempted to say in your elementary Korean. Whether the message got through or not you couldn’t tell, for the man simply sat there in silence, knees bouncing rapidly, feet tapping on the floor.

 _Better just get it over with quickly,_ you thought. There were only 15 minutes left in your shift anyway, and this guy was the only one sitting out in the waiting room. Maybe if you got him done fast you could go home early.

With that enticing thought in mind, you began to assemble your supplies. Soon you had some gauze, three tubes, an alcohol wipe, a needle, a needle holder, and a tourniquet in front of you. You started with the tourniquet first, stretching it out and placing it on the underside of the man’s upper arm.

As soon as the rubber touched his skin the man jerked his arm away. He flinched, drawing his arm closer to his body and hugging it to his chest.

“Um…sir…” you began, voice fading into silence when you were unsure of what to say.

The man laughed awkwardly. Shakily, he removed his hat, running a hand through his hair.

You caught a glimpse of his face and your eyes went wide.

Do Kyungsoo. That’s why the name seemed so familiar. That’s because it was the same Do Kyungsoo you had heard about in the news, the same Do Kyungsoo that was a part of the biggest boy group in Asia.

Before coming to Korea, you didn’t know much about the country’s culture. You had never given Korea that much thought at all, in fact. But that quickly changed when your classmates introduced you to kpop, dramas, and all other aspects of their society. Kpop slowly slipped its way into your music playlist, and although you didn’t listen to it on a daily basis, your Korean friends were adamant about showing you new songs and variety show clips, so you were swiftly able to recognize some of the most prominent bands just from their banners and posters that covered the city at every street corner.

And now world famous Korean popstar Do Kyungsoo, more commonly known as EXO’s D.O., was sitting in your phlebotomy office, needing his blood drawn.

And you, the intern who had never touched a needle before in her life prior to that morning, had to draw it.

Do Kyungsoo chuckled again, shaking his head. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologized hurriedly. “I’m just nervous, I don’t mean to be rude.” With a deep breath, he put his arm back down on the armrest. “You can go ahead, just…make it quick please.”

Apprehension and doubt began to seep into your mind. You had to draw the blood of one of the most famous celebrities in Korea, and today was your first day practicing phlebotomy. Sure, you knew the theory behind the science, but you had never performed an actual stick on a person until that morning. You had missed a lot so far, only managing to stick a handful of people on the first try, so now your nerves had kicked into overdrive.

You nodded to him, gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, then gently pulled his arm closer to you and rotated it so it laid flat the way you were taught it should be positioned. Threading the tourniquet under his arm, you pulled up on either side, crossing the elastic over, then tied a tight knot just above the inside of his elbow.

“Let me know if this is too tight,” you said, and Kyungsoo nodded, head already turned and eyes fixed on the opposing wall.

With a shaky finger, you began to press into the man’s skin. You felt around for a bit, trying to find a suitable vein to stick. This was always the most awkward part, you found. There was just something about touching another person and feeling for their veins that didn’t exactly sit right with you, but it had to be done.

Once you had found a good vein, you opened the alcohol packet and wiped the pad across the skin a few times to disinfect it. Then, rubbing the alcohol across the tips of your gloves, you re-palpated the area to make sure you didn’t lose the vein. When you were sure you knew where the vein was, you screwed the needle into the needle holder, popped the cap off, and readied yourself to stick.

“Okay,” you began timidly. “Little pinch in one, two, three…”

You pushed the needle in and instantly felt Kyungsoo tense underneath your touch. There was a sharp intake of breath and you could tell he wanted to move his arm away, but you kept him steady. You popped a tube on the back of the needle.

Nothing came out.

 _It’s okay,_ you told yourself, panic teetering at the edge of your mind. _Maybe you’re just too deep._

You pulled back on the needle, since perhaps you had gone through the vein completely, but when still no blood flowed into the tube, you had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from letting out a noise of concern. It was never good to show the patient that you were struggling or nervous, because it would only cause their anxiety to increase, and with Kyungsoo already being as afraid as he was, you couldn’t afford to make him any more terrified.

You tried another tactic; this time you adjusted the needle a few millimeters to the left and pushed back in. Kyungsoo’s fingers twitched and he let out a small grunt.

“Am I hurting you?” you asked, worried. When you looked up briefly you could see that he was as white as a sheet.

He shook his head, pursed his lips together. “I’m fine,” he replied, even though he was anything but. You felt horrible for causing him such distress. Maybe you weren’t cut out for this major after all.

“I’m sorry, it’s almost over,” you lied. In a last ditch attempt to make the draw work, you pulled back on the needle again and this time maneuvered it to the right.

This time, when you pushed the needle in further, blood began to flow into the tube.

You almost sighed in relief. The tube filled quickly and soon you were popping the last two on. After all the samples were collected you put gauze over the stick site, then slid the needle out of the skin, capped it, and applied pressure to the wound, all in one step.

“Put your finger here,” you instructed, and Kyungsoo did as he was told, finally releasing his death grip on the chair to push down on the gauze. You hastily ripped off a piece of paper tape to hold the gauze in place. Once that was done you took off your gloves and began putting the labels on the tubes, working quickly to not only get Kyungsoo out of the office and out of a stressful situation, but get yourself home as well.

The two of you remained silent as you labelled the tubes and cleaned up your work space. When you were finished, you looked over the requisition one more time before sending Kyungsoo on his way.

“You should be all set to go,” you said, and Kyungsoo was on his feet in a flash. He was already halfway out the door mumbling what you assumed was a thank you when a particular set of characters on the requisition caught your eye. “Oh wait…” you called. Kyungsoo glanced back at you, a look of dread on his face. “Did you…” You squinted, as if that would somehow help you translate the phrase you were trying to read. “Were you fasting?”

Kyungsoo blinked at you. “Fasting?” he repeated.

You nodded. “The doctor ordered a blood test that requires you to abstain from food for at least eight hours beforehand. Did you eat anything today?”

“I just had lunch…” he mumbled. He looked absolutely shattered and you couldn’t blame him. It made you feel horrible about what you were going to say next.

“I’m sorry…you’ll have to come back first thing tomorrow morning to get it redone.” The expression on Kyungsoo’s face made you want to smack yourself. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized profusely. “I should’ve checked before I started the draw. It’s my fault.” And it was true, one of the first things they taught you was to check for any fasting orders or doctor’s comments that might need addressing. You were just so caught up in wanting to leave early that you missed a critical step, leading the poor man to have to come back the next day and get tortured all over again.

Kyungsoo shook his head, flashed you a timid smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll just,” he paused, swallowed thickly, “come back tomorrow. It’s no big deal, trust me.”

You looked at him sadly. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” You racked your brain to think of ways to repay him for putting him through so much stress. Suddenly, you remembered receiving a coupon for a free ice cream during lunch. There was some promotional event going on at a local ice cream shop for the next few days; today they had come to the hospital to give free ice cream to the patients in the children’s ward. The coupon was still in your pocket where you had stored it a few hours prior, so you took it out and shoved it into Kyungsoo’s hand.

“Here, take it,” When he tried to give it back to you immediately you shook your head. “No, really. Take it. I don’t want it, and I don’t know how else to apologize, so…” you trailed off, looking away.

Hesitantly, Kyungsoo took the coupon from your hands. He smiled gently at you, a small smile, so small you couldn’t really tell if he was smiling at all. He studied the coupon for a few moments before giving you a quick bow and once again stepping towards the door. Thanking you quietly, he closed the door behind him and disappeared down the hall.  

You didn’t even have time to comprehend what had just happened because not a moment later your supervisor arrived. She burst into the room, white lab coat billowing out behind her, a piece of paper waving in the air wildly.  

“You did such a great job today!” was the first thing she said as she sat down in a chair by the door, beckoning you to sit next to her. You obliged, a frown creeping its way onto your face.

“I wouldn’t say-“

“Oh don’t even start with me young woman. You did well. Look at the numbers! Sixty-eight sticks and you only missed thirty of them. That’s fantastic! Trust me, I’ve had interns do worse.”

You gave her a disbelieving look. “But that’s still almost a fifty percent fail rate…”

She rolled her eyes, flipping her hand dismissively. Another hand came down heavily on your shoulder. “Seriously. You did great. And because you did so well, perhaps you can come in at eight tomorrow like you were originally supposed to.” She gave you a cheeky smile that you didn’t return.

“But I thought you said we were short staffed-“

Your supervisor wasn’t hearing any of it. She stood up, pulling you with her. Both hands on your shoulders, she looked you straight in the eye and flashed a bright smile.

“Go home. Sleep in a little bit tomorrow. You deserve it, okay?” She didn’t even give you a chance to respond, for not a second later she said a quick goodbye and flew out of the room just as fast as she had come in.

You stood there in the middle of the room, a little dazed and lost. Today was a lot crazier than you had anticipated. You weren’t really sure what to expect from this internship, but meeting a celebrity on your very first day certainly wasn’t it.

Numbly, you walked over to the break room and grabbed your belongings. On your way out you stopped by the front desk to bid your coworker goodbye.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked, a tired smile on her face. You returned it with one of your own.

“See you tomorrow,”

And with that, you left, thinking about Do Kyungsoo the entire way home.

 


	2. T-13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been very detached from ksoo and kpop lately but the news about his enlistment has reignited my love for him (at literally the worst possible time, thanks universe) so i want to write more of this story hopefully in the near future. howeverrrr this chapter has honestly been completely written and finished for like six months and im just an asshole and never posted it sorryyyyy

That night, you didn’t sleep much. You wanted to blame it on the lack of air conditioning in your apartment, but in reality, it was because you couldn’t seem to get Do Kyungsoo out of your head.   

After finally getting out of work that evening, you picked up some Korean take-out from a nearby restaurant, then hurried home to eat and relax until you had to wake up and repeat the day all over again, more or less. You took a cold shower following your meal and made yourself home on the living room couch with a carton of ice cream and your laptop where you would inevitably spend the rest of the night without realizing it.

It all stemmed from innocent curiosity. After meeting Do Kyungsoo at work, you wanted to know more about him, plain and simple. You had a very basic understanding of who he was, so it only seemed natural to want to do some research.

However, you hesitated at first. There was just something about looking up a person that you knew (on a very rudimentary level) that felt like such an invasion of privacy. But in the end you realized that anything you did look up on the internet would be considered public information, so it made you feel less bad about what you were about to do.

Settling into your seat, you opened your laptop and typed Kyungsoo’s name into the browser’s search bar. In an instant, millions of results popped up, ranging from “10 Things You Didn’t Know About EXO’s D.O.” types of articles to links to pages on Twitter and Tumblr. There were even links to EXO fanfiction which you pointedly ignored. Instead, you clicked on Kyungsoo’s Wikipedia page, eyes roaming the screen as you skimmed the very brief outline of his entire entertainment career thus far.

You marveled at all of the television shows and movies he had starred in. He had only been in the entertainment business for six years and already he had six dramas and eight movies under his belt. It honestly made you question what you were doing with your life. At age 25 Do Kyungsoo had already accomplished so much, and here you were, eating ice cream right out of the carton and drinking shots of soju at 9 o’clock on a Monday night.

You had to remind yourself that not everyone was cut out to be a celebrity. Massive stage fright coupled with generalized social anxiety meant that you would never be able to handle the spotlight, and that was okay with you. Being famous came with a price, like having every one of your actions scrutinized by the public and thus having no privacy whatsoever. It made you wonder if Do Kyungsoo still enjoyed being an idol despite all of the drawbacks.

An hour later and you were spiraling down the Youtube rabbit hole. You found yourself clicking on video after video, watching clips and interviews from some of Kyungsoo’s dramas and movies. From there you watched the EXO music videos you still hadn’t seen, eventually making your way to their variety show appearances and even watching one of their Japanese concerts in full.

The next thing you knew your phone alarm was going off. You jumped, wiping away the drool you felt trickling down your chin. Movie credits scrolled on your laptop and you shut it, not even remembering what you had watched. Something with Kyungsoo in it most likely, but you weren’t entirely sure. Picking up your phone, you squinted at the numbers on screen, almost having a mini heart attack when “7:30 AM” came into focus.

You jumped off the couch in a flash and threw on the only clean pair of scrubs you had. There wasn’t enough time to do your full-blown skincare routine so you splashed your face with water instead, praying to whatever gods that existed that you wouldn’t break out the next day. After brushing your teeth and combing your hair in record time, you snatched your purse and flew out the door and down the stairs, then out onto the street below.

It was a good thing you were a fast walker because your apartment was rather far from the hospital and you made it to the front entrance with barely a minute to spare. You badged yourself in, immediately heading for the stairs ahead. When you made it to the bottom floor you took a left and continued all the way down to the end of the hall where the outpatient lab was located.

You slipped through the doorway, greeting patients as you made your way to the actual draw station. Out of the corner of her eye your coworker Yoonhee saw you and waved hello. You waved back, fighting off a yawn, and stashed your belongings in the break room before finally getting to work.

“Rough night?” Yoonhee asked you after she had finished checking in a patient. She swiveled around in her chair to look at you, eyes roaming your face curiously. “You look awful. Are you not wearing makeup?”

“I never wear makeup,” you replied, pouting at her. She chuckled and swung back around when she saw another patient heading down the hall towards the check-in window.

“That explains a lot, then,” she muttered flippantly.

“Yah!” you called, but quickly quieted down so you didn’t disturb the patients. Yoonhee reassured you that she was only kidding but thought that you really did look tired. And you certainly felt it. You weren’t sure exactly how many hours of sleep you had gotten last night but you were willing to bet that it was less than four. So much for sleeping in like your boss told you to.

Within a few minutes you were performing your first draw of the day. The patient was a 95-year-old man with absolutely no veins to be found in his arms and no desire to get stuck more than once, so you had to resort to something you had never attempted before.  

“A hand draw,” Yoonhee confirmed after you asked her what to do. The man had begun to tap his foot impatiently and would not stop giving you the stink eye. You could feel your confidence falling with every second so you looked back to your tutor, eyes pleading for help.

“Maybe you should just do it…”

Yoonhee shook her head. “Oh no, you’re not getting out of this. How else will you learn if you never do it?”

The man’s eyes bulged. “You’re a student?” he questioned, bewildered. Before you even had the chance to defend yourself he had already ripped off the tourniquet, pulled down his shirt sleeve, and stood up as if to leave. “I’m not getting stabbed by some college kid who doesn’t know what they’re doing.” He spat out the words so viciously that you actually flinched.

You hid behind Yoonhee, trying your best to disappear and pretend none of this was actually happening. It didn’t surprise you that not everyone would be willing to let a student do their draw; in fact, you had expected that most people would refuse you in favor of someone more experienced. However, you had found that a great deal of people encouraged you to try. You still got the occasional patient that opted for Yoonhee or one of your other coworkers, but at least they were nice about requesting a different phlebotomist. This was the first time someone had outright refused you and been so hostile about it.

Yoonhee saw your mounting distress and tried to comfort you with a few pats on the shoulder. “It’s okay,” she soothed, “I can do it. You can just watch for now.”

It took some time, but after much reassurance that you wouldn’t be anywhere within a ten-foot radius of him with a needle, the man finally sat back down and offered his hand to Yoonhee. She prepped it for drawing just like any other draw, except this time the tourniquet was tied around the wrist and she positioned the hand facing downward so the veins really popped. She even smacked the top of the hand a few times to “wake the veins up” as she liked to say, and once she found a suitable vein to stick, she continued with the procedure as normal.

You took mental notes with every action Yoonhee took and every word she spoke. The way she positioned her hand, the angle at which the needle entered the vein, you paid careful attention to each tiny detail. You wanted to remember it for next time when it was your turn…if the patient actually let you do it next time.

Eventually the draw was complete and the old man was sent on his merry way. You slunk down into a chair, feeling a little defeated. Checking your phone, you sighed heavily. It was only ten minutes into your shift and already the rest of the day looked bleak. You were tired, your confidence in your phlebotomy skills was at an all-time low, and the only thing you could think about now was leaving work at the end of the day and never coming back.

The next patient came in just a few minutes later, effectively bringing you out of your disheartened musings as you heard the five-year-old girl screaming bloody murder well before she even set foot into the draw station. Thankfully Yoonhee said she would take care of that draw too because there was no way you were qualified to draw a small child yet. Instead, you assisted by holding the kid’s arm still while the mother tried to restrain the rest of her as much as possible.

The poor girl wriggled and screamed and kicked the entire time and you felt so unbelievably bad for her. Luckily Yoonhee was amazing with small children and the draw was over relatively quickly. The girl was sent home with a sparkly bandage and a lollipop, and the two of you were left behind with ringing ears, but happy that it was finally over.

It was almost two hours later when the next patient finally came in. At some point you had fallen asleep in the phlebotomy chair, finally managing to catch a bit of much needed sleep. It was rather uncomfortable to say the least, but still worth it, though after being startled awake by the sound of the printer whirring to life, you got a cramp in your neck which had you clutching the area in agony. You got up from your makeshift bed, rubbing the now sore spot on your neck as you shuffled over to the printer.

“Rise and shine, princess,” Yoonhee said cheerfully as she handed you the requisition from around the corner. You frowned and snatched it from her hands, ripping the labels from the printer in the process. You didn’t miss the mischievous smirk on her face as you took the paper from her grip.

“What?” you questioned. In the one whole day that you had known Yoonhee, you had come to find out that nothing good ever came from a smirk like that. You regarded her cautiously, the knowing glint in her eye making you more and more uncomfortable with each passing second.

She giggled, not-so-subtly hiding her smile behind her hand, and shooed you towards the door. “Your sweetheart is here,” she sang.

You frowned. “My what-“ you started, but she had already turned back to the window to register another patient.

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes and opened the door. She was just messing around with you; you shouldn’t even give her the time of day. With a sigh, you opened the door as you looked down at the requisition in your hands.

Surprisingly, you could read the first character of the patient’s name almost instantly. You recognized it, the symbol bringing to mind a fleeting memory from the day prior. “Do-“ you began, and before you even had the chance to finish saying the person’s name, a man in the waiting room stood up. He came to the door with urgency, clothed in black from head to toe, a white hospital mask covering most of his face. You stepped aside to let him in and when he looked at you briefly as he crossed the threshold, your eyes widened in recognition.

“-Kyungsoo,” you finished lamely, hesitating in the doorway. Quickly, you glanced down at the requisition to make sure you were correct, feeling a strange sense of pride bubble in your chest as you recognized the familiar characters of his name staring back at you.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over the paper and you felt a presence next to you. You looked up, curious, and came face to face with a rather irritable and frazzled looking man in a suit glaring at you. He gestured towards the clock on the wall. “Make this quick,” he snapped, and settled himself against the wall as if he was guarding the entrance to some kind of club.

You blinked at him, too stunned and confused to say anything. Closing the door softly, you tried your best to ignore what had just happened as you walked over to your station. Kyungsoo had already sat down in the phlebotomy chair, sweatshirt sleeve rolled up past his elbow, right arm exposed. There was a small yet angry looking purple bruise where you had stuck him the day before and you felt your stomach drop with guilt as you approached him. You knew how difficult the draw seemed for Kyungsoo to handle, so to think that you had hurt him enough to cause a bruise made you want to quit the internship altogether. You chose this major to help people, not hurt them.

But that was yesterday. Today, you had a second chance. Taking a deep breath to muster up your courage, you forced away any negative thoughts and insecurities and instead plastered a friendly smile on your face, hoping it seemed as genuine as you wanted it to be.

“Hi, I’ll be doing your bloodwork today,” Thank god your professor had practically beaten the phrase into your head; it was probably the only Korean sentence you could say with 100% confidence and fluency. “Can you please tell me your full name and date of birth?”

Kyungsoo looked up at you, mouth open as if ready to answer your question, when suddenly he stopped. He looked at you, taken aback, for a rather uncomfortable stretch of time before you finally cleared your throat and snapped him out of it.

“It’s you again,” he said, dumbfounded. The pleasant surprise you had felt at seeing him for the second time dissipated and was instead replaced with mild confusion.

“Uh…yes? I work here?” You gave him a pointed look. Was it really that shocking to see you again when you were the one who told him to come back tomorrow?

“I…” Kyungsoo shook his head, and embarrassed blush rising to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, that was incredibly rude of me. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

You were utterly lost at this point. Nothing that was coming out of his mouth was making sense. “I mean…I work here. Every day. Eight to five,” you reasoned. “I drew you yesterday, remember?”

Kyungsoo gave you a crooked smile, but you didn’t miss the quick grimace that flashed across his face beforehand. “Ah, of course. I remember it clearly,” he said plainly, though you detected a hint of sarcasm hiding underneath the statement. However, it was obvious that he didn’t intend for it to come off negatively, because his eyes quickly widened with realization and then he was apologizing profusely, hoping that you didn’t take it the wrong way.

You chuckled awkwardly, brushing off the apologies with a wave of your hand. His strange demeanor puzzled you, to say the least. Based on what you saw of his variety show appearances, you expected him to just be polite and rather quiet, to the point and honest. Instead, you found yourself dealing with a very socially awkward and shy man…traits that you couldn’t really judge him for considering you possessed them yourself. You were honestly surprised that something stupid hadn’t slipped out of your mouth yet as you were talking to him.

Your eyes flicked down to the bruise on his arm again, trying to steer the conversation back to the job at hand. “Sorry about that, by the way,” Following your gaze, Kyungsoo looked down at the purple blotches, head already shaking in dismissal of the comment.

“Please, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing,” You returned the gentle smile that he gave you. “Besides,” he said, a tinge of red coloring his cheeks as he looked anywhere but your face, “the ice cream made up for it.”

“I’m glad it did,” you replied, relieved he wasn’t holding any sort of grudge. The two of you exchanged smiles and fell into silence… _awkward_ silence. As the seconds passed with neither of you saying anything, you found a nice spot on the floor that was increasingly intriguing to look at, until you finally realized that you had a job to do and startled into action, causing Kyungsoo to flinch at the sudden movement.

“Right,” you declared to no one in particular. “Can you please tell me your full name and date of birth?”

“Do Kyungsoo, January 12th, 1993,” he supplied, straightening in his chair in anticipation for what you knew he had secretly been trying to stall for as long as possible.  

“And are you fasting today?” you remembered to ask. Kyungsoo nodded (thankfully) so you began to gather all of your supplies.

With your hands now gloved and your materials laying neatly in front of you, you carefully picked up his right arm, twisting it slightly in either direction to examine his bruise. Out of the corner of your eye you could tell he was watching you and it made you feel self-conscious, but you forced yourself to ignore him.

Turning his arm again, you pursed your lips. If there was one thing your professor made sure you never forgot for the rest of your life, it was that you never drew from the exact same spot twice (at least, if there was a very short amount of time between draws). In Kyungsoo’s case it was a given, since if you tried to poke him right where he had a bruise, it would be extra painful, and needlessly so.

Instead, you would have to use his left arm. You set his right arm back on the armrest, gently tugging his sleeve down to cover his skin. “I’m going to look at your left arm, if that’s okay,” you told him. Kyungsoo nodded with the slightest bit of reluctance.

“Um,” he began softly. “I have a…” he hesitated, “a _meeting_ to get to right after this. I can’t miss it. If there’s any way to make this process go faster…”

His words reminded you of the man waiting outside the door and you frowned. That must have been his manager, or someone to that effect. It was understandable that, being a celebrity and all, Kyungsoo would be extremely busy, but handling needles wasn’t exactly something that could be done in a rush. “I’ll try my best,” was all you could say before you finally got to work.

You tied the tourniquet above his elbow and began to feel for veins. The veins on this arm were miles better than the ones on his right, so within seconds you had found a spot that felt strong and could even be physically seen. That certainly made things easier this time around and you felt confident that the draw would go well…provided your patient didn’t freak out too much.

Once Kyungsoo felt the cold alcohol pad press against his skin, you could feel the nervousness radiate out from his body and his feet began to tap against the tile without pause. He turned his head away from you, exhaling loudly through his nose. You could feel his muscles go rigid through your gloves and you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him.

“Try to loosen your muscles,” you instructed. “It’ll hurt more if you’re tense,"

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and released the fist he didn’t know he was making. Once you were sure he was somewhat more relaxed, you readied the needle.

“Little pinch in one, two, three…”

This time, when you popped the tube onto the needle, blood shot in immediately, filling the tube in less than five seconds. You took it off, setting it on the armrest in front of you, then quickly let the tourniquet go. Readying your gauze, you pulled out the needle, capping it as you simultaneously put pressure on the insertion site.

After a beat of silence, Kyungsoo shifted restlessly. “Did you do it yet?” he asked, sounding confused. You suppressed a chuckle.

“Actually, I’m already done,” you declared, taking Kyungsoo’s hand and pressing it down on the gauze for you. His head whipped around, staring at his arm in shock, then twisted back to get a glimpse at the vial of blood in your hand that you had already begun to label.

“That was it?” he questioned, astonished. “I didn’t feel a thing.”

Well that was a pleasant surprise. So far not a single person had said that. The fact that Kyungsoo felt none of what just happened made you feel like you were finally doing something right, so you gave him a smug smile.

“See, it’s not so bad, is it?” you asked cheekily as you taped the gauze down against his skin. As soon as the bandage was secure, Kyungsoo gathered his things sitting on the chair next to him, then got up hastily to leave.

He shrugged. “I suppose not,” he conceded. He made his way to the exit, but suddenly paused with his hand on the doorknob. For a moment you thought that he had simply forgotten one of his belongings, but then he turned around and locked eyes with you. His eyes were so large and so sharply defined, angled in such a striking way that made you unable to break your gaze; you never really noticed how unique his eyes were until they were staring you down with such intensity.

Suddenly, his lips were moving. He was saying something. But you were so caught up in thinking about his eyes that you didn’t have time to comprehend what it was before he had already stepped outside, the other man from earlier quickly dragging him away.

“Have a great day!” you called after him, but just like the last time, he had already disappeared.

You just stood there for a few moments, contemplating, replaying the last ten minutes in your mind over and over again. Do Kyungsoo…he was such an interesting person. Kind and friendly. Quiet and shy. Undeniably handsome.

“Yah, quit daydreaming and get back to work,” Yoonhee reprimanded from her station behind the check-in counter. You snapped out of your thoughts, an embarrassed blush giving you away completely. You couldn't believe you had just been caught swooning over a man's eyes while at _work._ You felt like you were in some cliché romcom. It made a shiver of disgust shoot down your spine.

“I wasn’t _daydreaming_ ,” you shot back.

Yoonhee laughed, short and biting. “Sure, sure. I can’t really blame you though, he is quite the looker.” She cupped her chin with her hand. “Do you think he likes older women…?”

You groaned and fell back into a chair.

This was going to be a long shift.

\--

Many hours later, and you had finally arrived back home. The moment you entered your apartment you dropped your coat and bag onto the floor, closed the door behind you, then promptly fell face-first onto your couch. Even though you worked less hours, the day seemed longer than the one before, so by the time your shift had ended you were exhausted and in serious need of a nap.

You checked your back pocket again, making sure for the hundredth time that your phone was tucked away securely. At some point during the day you had lost said device, only to find that it was wedged between the phlebotomy chair cushions. It must have fallen out of your pocket when you had curled up there for a brief nap earlier that morning. Thankfully you had found it before work ended, and it was still sticking out of your back pocket like you expected it to be.

You placed the phone down on the counter. Turning on the TV, you punched in a random channel number and let the background noise lull you into sleep.

Rest was short lived, however, because after a few minutes of blissful relaxation-bordering-on- unconsciousness, you heard your phone ring. You groaned, cursing to no one in particular as you stretched your arm out to the table to grab the offending piece of technology.

There were many things that you realized were wrong when you brought the phone to your face. One, the ringtone that was blasting in your ears was not yours. Two, you didn’t recognize the phone number that was trying to call you. And three, you realized with horror as you turned the phone over and inspected the case, this was not your phone.

Panicked and confused, you declined the call. The lock screen picture that displayed afterwards was of two small dogs, one gray and one black, both poodles of some kind. Any words on the lock screen were written in Korean. Even though you knew your passcode wouldn’t work, you tried unlocking the phone anyway. As expected, access was denied.

 _Oh god, oh no_  you thought frantically. How on earth did you possibly manage to lose your phone and come home with someone else’s? Whose phone were you holding, and where on earth was yours?

In the midst of your impending mental breakdown, another call came in. You didn’t recognize this number either, so you declined the call again. Within seconds, there was a text message from said number, entirely in Korean, and your growing headache made you not want to put in the effort to translating it at the moment. Besides, if this wasn’t your phone, you had no right to look at the messages, since they were not intended for you.

Over the next hour, multiple texts came in from the same number and others. You sat on your couch, growing increasingly flustered as not only texts but calls kept flooding in. At one point you reached for the phone with the intention of texting your friend Eunseo for advice, only to realize, oh that’s right, _this wasn’t your phone._

The next time a call came in, which was around twenty minutes later, you seriously considered answering just to let the caller know the situation, but then you thought about being brought to court for (unknowingly) stealing someone’s property, so you just let the call go to voicemail, all while frantically trying to figure out how you had switched phones in the first place and how to get the phone back to whoever it rightfully belonged to.

Eventually, the calls and texts stopped. The TV had long since been turned off and you had been sitting in your apartment in silence, too afraid to do anything in case the cops showed up at any moment. After it seemed like the phone would remain quiet for some time and nobody was going to bust down your door, you finally decided to make yourself dinner, considering it was almost 11 PM and you were starving. You brought the phone with you into the kitchen, setting it down on the counter so you could watch it like a hawk as you made instant ramen, just in case something happened.

And of course something did. In the middle of eating the undercooked noodles, the phone lit up again with another phone call. You glanced at the number, turning back to your steaming bowl when you didn’t recognize it, except-

You did a double take.

Your own phone number was calling you.

The first call you let go to voicemail, too stunned and confused to answer it. As soon as the call ended, another one came in not a second later, again from your phone. Whoever had your phone kept calling and calling and frankly you were too scared to even bother answering, because you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that your phone didn’t have a passcode anymore (since you had forgotten to turn the feature back on after it had been off for a time), so whoever currently had your phone could go through all of your messages, your pictures, your apps, your accounts…

You didn’t realize that the phone had stopped ringing until you forcibly snapped yourself out of your spiral into an anxiety attack. The phone sat quietly on the counter, screen dark, for several prolonged seconds until it lit up again with an incoming text message. You picked up the phone this time, trying your best to decipher the Korean characters sent from your own number.  
  


**xxx-xxx-xxxx**

_Please answer the phone._   
  


**xxx-xxx-xxxx**

_This is Do Kyungsoo._  
  


You almost dropped the phone into your bowl of leftover broth, only managing to catch it at the last second as the reality of the situation crashed down onto you.

You had somehow managed to switch phones with kpop superstar Do Kyungsoo.

You were definitely going to get sued for this. There was no doubt in your mind. Kyungsoo’s company, or even Kyungsoo himself, was going to track you down and report you to the police. You were going to get arrested and then they were going to make you pay thousands of dollars in damage—thousands of dollars that you didn’t have. And because you couldn’t afford to pay, they were going to throw you in jail to rot for the rest of your life and you would never see your family again and everyone in Korea would hate you-

The phone rang again, startling you out of your descent into the literal worst-case scenario. Your phone was calling you once more, and this time you answered, raising the device with trembling hands and finding the mental strength to press the accept button.

“Please don’t sue me,” was the first thing out of your mouth. You clutched Kyungsoo’s phone for dear life as you waited for his response.

 _“Who is this?”_ he demanded, his voice low and icy. It sent a chill down your spine and caused tears to well up as you realized that you were well and truly fucked.

" _Whoever you are, I’ll pay you whatever you want, just please return my phone safely. Please don’t try to get into it. I’ll give you whatever you want. I’m serious,”_ he begged. As he pleaded you could hear his voice lose that hardened resolve until it began to wobble with unease. 

Hearing him like that made you feel like the evilest person in the history of the universe. “It’s the phlebotomist from the hospital,” you bawled. “You must have picked up my phone before you left this morning. Imsosorrypleasedontsuemeidonthaveanymoney-“ You began to ramble and sob in English, your Korean vocabulary not extensive enough to portray the clusterfuck of emotions you were feeling right now.

“… _I’m sorry? I can’t understand you. Please calm down.”_ Kyungsoo requested, a hint of worry hiding underneath his confusion. The fact that he sounded concerned for you made you cry even harder. You didn’t deserve any ounce of understanding from this man when you were literally this close to ruining his entire life, not to mention your own—all completely by accident.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you repeated in Korean. You simply didn’t know what else to say. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“

_“Don’t, don’t, it’s okay-“_

“No it’s not!” you retorted. You tugged at your hair with your free hand, willing your tears to stop. “I took your phone and oh my god, I’m going to jail...”

 _“You’re not going to jail,”_ Kyungsoo reassured calmly. His voice dropped down to a murmur and you had to strain your ears to hear what he was saying. _“Please, relax. I’m not mad at you.”_

You did not deserve the kindness of this man, you decided. Kyungsoo was too damn sympathetic for his own good.

 _“We need to switch phones as soon as possible,”_ he continued after a hesitant pause. _“Can you meet tomorrow morning?”_

You had finally managed to calm down somewhat. Sniffling, you tried to comprehend what he was suggesting. “I have work starting at eight,” you told him. “What about now?” It was late, almost midnight, but you were willing to venture out into the city just to return the phone to its rightful owner. If it ensured that you weren’t getting sued, then you’d be out of your apartment in a heartbeat.

You heard Kyungsoo sigh. _“I can’t. I’m busy. What about tomorrow morning at six? I have to be up early for something anyway. We can meet at that French café across the street from the hospital. Please, I need this phone back immediately. And please don’t try to get into it. I haven’t gone through yours, so I would hope that you would have the decency not to go through mine.”_

“O-okay,” The location was convenient. The time, not so much. But the urgency in Kyungsoo’s voice and his polite demands didn’t give you room to argue, so you agreed to meet him the next morning, then bid him goodnight, but not without apologizing once more. When Kyungsoo chuckled you couldn’t help but feel like your worries had eased a bit.

 _“Really, it’s fine. To be honest, I’m glad it ended up in your hands and not someone else’s.”_ The words were said so quietly you weren’t sure he had said anything at all. There was an awkward pause, which he broke with a clear of his throat. _“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, goodnight.”_ And then he hung up, leaving you in heavy silence.

You pulled the phone away from your ear, put it face down onto the kitchen counter.  Heaving an immense sigh, you dragged yourself to bed after sitting there for a few moments, contemplating all of your life choices had led up to this single shitty moment in time.

Everything was totally fine. That was the only thing you could tell yourself. You would meet with Kyungsoo tomorrow morning, switch phones, and then be on your merry way. It was the perfect plan; everything would go smoothly and in no time you’d have your phone safely in your hands where it belonged.

Easier said than done, of course, but you managed to fall asleep anyway despite the whirlwind of thoughts spinning around your head and the overwhelming knowledge that you would be meeting Do Kyungsoo once again under the oddest of circumstances.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im gonna look back at this someday and cringe


	3. T-12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its' july 1st, 2019, kyungsoo enlisted in the military today, and dandanies worldwide are dying inside. so what better way to keep the sadness at bay than to read some self insert ksoo goodness :')
> 
> now that kyungsoo has gone off to be a badass in the military, i'd like to write more of this story to fill the kyungsoo-shaped void that he's left in my heart. i hope any other heartbroken dandanies can get some comfort from this fic and that it can hold them over until he comes back XD
> 
> see you in two years kyungsoo! best of luck to you in the military. stay safe and healthy and do your best!! we miss you already but we're rooting for you!

Five o’clock came too soon for your liking. Your alarm blared in the silence, startling you out of the few hours of sleep you actually managed to get, and it was with an aggravated groan that you forced yourself out of bed. The floor was cool against your bare feet and you shivered. There was nothing more you wanted than to crawl back into the warm nest of blankets atop your cloud of a mattress, but there was something you had to do this morning, and the sickly churning of your stomach told you it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

Eyes closed, you grabbed your phone off the nightstand and stumbled into the bathroom to freshen up. The lights blinded you even from behind your eyelids; it made an irrational anger bubble up in your chest and you let out an exasperated sigh. Needless to say, you were definitely not a morning person.

You got to work on brushing your teeth. In attempts to wake yourself up, you picked up your phone, trying to unlock it. After the fifth time your passcode was rejected, the memory of yesterday came back to your foggy mind.

Oh, right. This was Do Kyungsoo’s phone. And you were supposed to meet up with him today to give it back.

The churning in your stomach ramped up in intensity. In the back of your mind you knew there was nothing to worry about, that it wasn’t that big of a deal, but your tendency to get nervous about literally anything had you feeling physically sick—so sick that you knew eating breakfast before you left was out of the question.

You finished up in the bathroom at 5:30 and quickly returned to your room to get dressed. However, you found yourself stuck as your stared into your closet. Your laziness made you want to throw on the first clean pair of pants and a t-shirt that you saw, but the anxious part of you worried about not making a good first impression. Although it wasn’t the first time you and Kyungsoo had met, it was the first time meeting him in a casual setting. You didn’t want him to think you were a slob, but you didn’t want to overdress either.

You were at a loss, and you were running out of time. It took roughly fifteen minutes to get to the hospital and it was already 5:45. With no time left to think, you grabbed a random button-up blouse and a pair of black dress pants—you could always come back to change into your work scrubs later. Fixing your hair in the mirror and making sure that your breath smelled okay, you double checked that you had Kyungsoo’s phone with you, took a deep breath, and headed out the door.

The streets were relatively busy for six in the morning. It was a Wednesday, you supposed, and you were in a city, so it really shouldn’t have surprised you. But back at home you lived in a tiny town and even your college campus was rather small, so you were still unused to large bustling cities like this one. You narrowly avoided slamming into someone with their eyes glued to their phone as you momentarily looked up to assess the weather. Stammering out an apology, you ducked your head in embarrassment and hurried down the sidewalk, growing more and more anxious the closer you got to your destination.

Eventually, you came to the hospital. Instead of continuing inside, you crossed the street and approached the French café Kyungsoo had talked about. You had passed by it many times during your stay in Korea but never bothered to check it out. If it weren’t for Kyungsoo bringing you there, you wondered if you would’ve gone there at all.

The bells above the door jingled in greeting as you stepped into the café. The scent of coffee immediately assaulted your nose and your stomach gave a painful lurch. There was nobody inside except for an old woman behind the counter who bowed and welcomed you to the store, so you made your way inside and picked a table as far away from the windows as possible. You figured Kyungsoo would appreciate the privacy.

You sat down, fiddling with his phone nervously. After a few minutes of silence the barista asked if you would like to order something. You awkwardly shook your head. “I’m uh, waiting for a friend first,” you said. It felt disingenuous to say. Kyungsoo wasn’t a friend. He was a stranger, and that was probably all he would ever be. For some reason, the thought made you frown.

Several more minutes passed. Growing anxious, you checked Kyungsoo’s phone for the time. He was late by more than ten minutes already. Perhaps he was running a quick errand…? Surely he couldn’t stand you up when he was so concerned with getting his phone back. You checked the phone again. 6:15. Maybe he was too busy getting hounded by a mob of fangirls that had recognized him. You really hoped that wasn’t the case.

You were just rising from your seat to go to the restroom when the chiming of bells signaled the arrival of another customer. A figure walked through the doorway, cloaked in a black sweatshirt and sweatpants, and you knew immediately that it was Kyungsoo. Seeing him three days in a row looking like a walking shadow was enough for you to assume that his favorite color was black.

The two of you locked eyes and you gave him a nervous smile, beckoning to your table. He approached you warmly and bowed; you returned it with an even deeper bow of your own, hoping the respectful gesture came across well. Kyungsoo glanced over his shoulder quickly before removing his face mask and giving you a tentative smile. He slipped into the seat across from you and rested his clasped hands on the table.

“Hi,” you finally greeted after a beat of silence, breaking the staring contest the two of you seemed to be having.

Kyungsoo stifled a yawn behind his hand. “Sorry I’m late. I had to take a detour.” He looked tried and frazzled; maybe he did get mobbed by fangirls after all.

You hummed in acknowledgement as you pushed his phone across the table, not wanting to delay Kyungsoo any longer since you were sure he had much better things to do than sit here with you. When you saw his eyes light up and his entire body sag with relief, you couldn’t help but sigh with remorse.

“I didn’t do anything, I promise,” you informed him. He regarded you blankly as he took the phone and inspected it. Seemingly deciding that you were telling the truth, he fished around in his pocket and returned your phone to you.

You snatched the phone from his hands without shame. You too inspected it, making sure he didn’t rifle through your pictures and apps or change anything. When you found no evidence of tampering you let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding and hugged the small device to your chest. Kyungsoo chuckled at your reaction.

“Look, I’m really sorry,” you apologized. Kyungsoo had given no indications that he was angry with you thus far, but you figured it wouldn’t hurt to apologize again. You had put Kyungsoo’s entire career on the line by accidentally taking his phone. If a sasaeng fan had gotten a hold of it, the situation probably would have been devastating. You couldn’t quite meet Kyungsoo’s eyes as you spoke. “I shouldn’t have left my phone on the chair.”

He shrugged. “I should have double checked to make sure I had all of my things before I left. We’re both at fault. What matters is that we managed to fix our mistake with no consequences.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but found nothing to say. The two of you sat in prolonged silence. When you still couldn’t think of any way to strike up a conversation, you checked your phone and feigned worry.

“Ah,” you began, “I should probably-“ You were interrupted by your stomach growling noisily. An embarrassed blush crept up your cheeks and you patted your abdomen absentmindedly. “I should probably get going,”

Kyungsoo frowned. “You sound hungry. Maybe you should stay and eat. Did you have breakfast yet?”

“No,” you admitted. “But I’m fine, really. I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”

You were surprised when he shook his head. “Breakfast is very important for your health, so you should eat." He said it somewhat sternly, like a mother scolding her disobedient child. "I'm in no rush," he continued, "and I actually haven't had breakfast either, so perhaps we could...stay and eat together...if you want…” The last part was so quiet and mumbled that you had to stop and think about it for a moment before you finally realized what he had said.

You could only hope you didn’t look like a tomato because your entire face felt like it was on fire. You stood for a few moments, contemplating his offer, before carefully lowering yourself back into your seat. It would be nice to have someone to talk to, you thought. The majority of your time outside of work was spent alone, since most of your foreign exchange friends had gone back home already and your Korean friends were too busy with their own lives to hang out with you.

“I don’t want anyone to get any ideas…” you worried. “I know that you’re,” you leaned over, shielding your mouth with one hand, voice dropping to a whisper, _“a celebrity.”_

Something in Kyungsoo’s expression changed. He no longer looked as open—his eyes had narrowed slightly and he had crossed his arms, closing himself off. He almost looked…disappointed. Uncomfortable. You regretted your words as soon as you had said them.

But as quickly as Kyungsoo’s demeanor changed, it morphed again, this time softening into mild amusement. He even chuckled, which confused you to all hell, and seemed to wave off your concerns.

“Out of all the people I’ve met, I think you’re the only one that’s actually been _concerned_ that you’ve met me.”

You shrugged. “I just don’t want to get sued.”

Kyungsoo shook his head, a thoroughly entertained smile on his face. “I swear, you’re not getting sued. You did all that I asked for and I can’t be more grateful.” You opened your mouth to say something but your stomach jumped in on the conversation instead by growling deafeningly like a passing freight train. Kyungsoo gave you a pointed look. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast?”

You thought a moment before giving him a sheepish grin. “I suppose I could spare a few minutes…”

The moment you acquiesced, Kyungsoo beamed and shot up from his seat. He approached the barista at the counter, seemingly asking for two menus, and quickly came back with two laminated papers. Off in the distance, you saw the old woman cross over to the front of the store and flip the sign around so that the shop was now advertised as closed.

You were going to comment on it but decided not to. It was actually better this way; now the two of you could eat in peace without the threat of someone coming in, recognizing Kyungsoo, then getting the wrong idea when seeing the two of you together. Reassured, you picked up your menu and began to look through the breakfast choices. A quick glance at your phone told you it was 6:50; you should have enough time to eat and then go back to your apartment before work.

You quickly realized there was a major problem, however. Your Korean literacy was…well…not the best. And of course, the menu was entirely in Korean. Even after staring at the blocks of characters for a solid minute you still couldn’t recall what it was supposed to sound like when spoken aloud. The entire menu was just a giant jumble of Korean characters that you couldn’t understand. In the back of your mind you thought of asking Kyungsoo to read it for you, but even though you knew he would most likely do it in a heartbeat and not judge you for basically being illiterate, you didn’t want to sacrifice your pride that easily. So you sat there for a good five minutes pretending to think about your choices, all while secretly dying inside and hoping Kyungsoo wouldn’t notice.

But of course he did. It took all of ten seconds for Kyungsoo to decide what he wanted to eat and he had been staring at you ever since, and when you still hadn’t made up your mind after five minutes, he decided to jump in. “Are you having trouble choosing?” he asked. You jumped at the sudden noise.

“Uh, yeah. Actually,” you hesitantly pointed to a string of characters. “I was thinking of getting this…?”

When Kyungsoo only blinked at you, you knew you had picked something ridiculous. “I’m not so sure they would serve tartare this early in the morning,” he commented.

You threw up your hands in exasperation. “Ah, of course! You’re right. That’s too bad, though. I really love…whatever it is that you just said.”

Kyungsoo was trying with monumental effort to keep a straight face. “You’re not from Korea, are you?”

You feigned shock. “Dang! What gave it away? My lack of Asian features?” You couldn’t help but be sarcastic since it was so blatantly obvious that you were not Korean nor of any other Asian descent.

Kyungsoo shrugged. “I didn’t want to assume anything. There are plenty of people that aren’t ethnically Korean but are brought up in Korea. Where are you from?”

“America,” you replied, then pushed the menu into his hands. “Can you read this for me? My reading skills suck.” When Kyungsoo cracked a smile, you frowned. “Yah, don’t judge me!”

“I’m not, I’m not, I promise. And if it’s any consolation, your Korean speaking is fine. You’ve already got the hang of our mannerisms.”

You scoffed. “That’s my coworkers' fault. But really, half of what I’m saying I don’t even think is correct.”

“It’s a little awkward since some of the grammar is off, but for the most part it sounds perfectly fine to me.” Kyungsoo smiled at you again and you couldn’t help but smile back. Something about his smiles was just contagious. They made him look so cute and the happiness they radiated made you feel happy in return.

Kyungsoo proceeded to read the menu to you and in the end you chose a cinnamon crepe topped with strawberries and bananas while he ordered a breakfast crepe with chicken, swiss cheese, and tomatoes. He even ordered for you, since you weren’t confident enough in your Korean and didn’t want to accidentally say something rude to the elderly woman (who you assumed was the shop owner) taking your order.

As soon as the woman disappeared, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “So…” you began, suddenly feeling awkward. You weren’t well versed in how to talk to celebrities. You were curious about his life, but didn’t want to pry. So naturally, you started talking about the only thing you could think of. You strained your neck to glance over the back of Kyungsoo’s seat and out the window. “Weather’s nice today.”

Kyungsoo suppressed a chuckle. “It’s supposed to be cooler than yesterday, I heard.”

You nodded, having nothing else to say. The atmosphere quickly returned to one of awkwardness and you looked anywhere but Kyungsoo’s face. Drumming your fingers on the table, you fidgeted in your seat as you struggled to find any type of conversation topic. You didn’t want to ask anything about Kyungsoo’s idol or private life in fear of touching on a sore subject or making him uncomfortable, so instead you decided to sacrifice your own comfort and give Kyungsoo the upper hand.

“Do you know twenty questions?” you asked. Kyungsoo looked up from where he was intently staring at a piece of loose thread hanging off of his coat sleeve. When he nodded, you smiled. “Wanna play? You can ask me twenty questions, and then I'll ask you twenty questions.”

He was quiet for a moment, thinking, before nodding. “Sure,” he answered tentatively.

With that, Kyungsoo proceeded to ask you all kinds of questions. Why did you come to Korea, what were you studying, did you like your internship…you tried to answer them to the best of your ability, but some things you wanted to express you lacked the Korean vocabulary to do so. Eventually it became a game in and of itself to find ways to explain yourself in Korean or get Kyungsoo to understand what you were saying in English. As a result your answers were grossly oversimplified, but it was better than not being able to answer the question at all.

Kyungsoo seemed to be enjoying this game and was fascinated (and perhaps a little bit horrified) that you had just started your phlebotomy internship a few days prior. He was about to ask his eighteenth question—yes, you were keeping track—when the shop owner came back with two steaming breakfast plates. The both of you looked on in awe as they were set in front of you, the delicious aroma of crepes making your mouths water. Giving the woman your thanks, the both of you dug in as soon as she left.

The conversation died off as the two of you enjoyed your meals. You were both content to eat in silence, although Kyungsoo still snuck in the occasional question in between bites. The crepes were perhaps the greatest thing you had ever had and you thought briefly of offering Kyungsoo a bite, but you were starving and wouldn’t get the chance to eat again until noon, so you finished them off rather quickly. From the corner of your eye you could see Kyungsoo taking his time with his meal while he stole amused glances at you. You pretended not to notice.

Eventually, both of your plates were empty. You checked your phone once more for the time, happy that you had enough time to run back to your apartment to change before work started. The woman came by and cleared your plates, delighted to see that the two of you enjoyed the food so much, and then returned with a check, which Kyungsoo promptly snatched away from your reaching hand.

“No,” you pouted. You reached for your purse. “At least let me pay half.”

Kyungsoo shook his head, holding the check just out of your reach. “I’ll get it. Really, it’s fine,” he added when he saw you open your mouth to protest.

You slouched back into your chair with a huff. “I don’t like people spending money on me when they don’t have to.” Kyungsoo didn’t respond to that. Instead, he calmly stacked a few bills on top of the receipt and gave them back to the owner when she came around the second time. She bowed gratefully and thanked you for coming in, and the two of you bowed in return to thank her for the delicious food.

You quickly got out of your seat when she disappeared behind the front counter. Time was running out and soon you would be late for work if you didn’t leave immediately. You turned to Kyungsoo, who was somewhat reluctantly standing up and replacing his face mask.

“Well,” you began, “Thank you for breakfast, but I really need to get going. Can’t be late for work, you know?” You chuckled awkwardly. Kyungsoo didn’t say anything. “Uh…and I’m sorry for the inconvenience. With the phones, I mean.”

This time, Kyungsoo’s eyes disappeared into half-moons, an indication that he was smiling underneath the mask. “It was nice to have a quiet breakfast for once,” he confessed. “And please, don’t worry about the phone situation. I can tell that you didn't mean for anything bad to happen. Just...I'd prefer it if you didn't tell anybody about what happened the past few days." The look he gave you left no room to argue, as if you were going to anyway.

"O-of course," you stammered, somewhat intimidated. But you promised him that not a peep would come out of your mouth, and look of reassurance and relief that passed across his face had you making sure you would never go back on that promise. You couldn't bear the thought of Kyungsoo being upset because of your fuck up, so it would never happen. What occurred those past three days would stay between him and you only.

Suddenly, Kyungsoo looked down at his phone. His eyes widened and before you knew it he was brushing past you and reaching for the door. "Sorry," he apologized hurriedly. "I need to go. Good luck at work!" He bowed briskly and was out the door in a flash.

Hastily, before you could change your mind, you ran out after him. "You owe me twenty-three answers!" you called. He didn't glance back, but you could just make out his hand raising above his head and giving you a thumbs up. You stifled a laugh with the back of your hand and watched him for a few seconds before you began to head back to your apartment.

You thought of Kyungsoo as you walked home. He was such a nice and understanding person. A bit shy and awkward at times, but honestly, who wasn't? He was relatively easy to talk to considering your social anxiety and his smile was contagious. Kpop fans were right to rave about him—he truly was a gentleman.

There was a twinge of sadness when you realized that you would probably never see him again. He was too busy and too important, if the way he rushed out of the café was any indication. He didn't have the time to hang out with nobodies like you and you would be leaving the country in less than two weeks anyway.

But, and although he didn’t explicitly say it, he promised to answer your twenty-three questions. He had gone over the twenty-question limit when you were eating breakfast but he seemed to be enjoying the game so you didn’t bother to stop him. But now it was your turn. You didn’t want to be too hopeful, but on the off-chance you ran into him again, you wanted to be prepared.

So after returning to your apartment, changing, and freshening up, you headed back out into the city to go to work, mentally compiling a list of questions for Kyungsoo along the way.    

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
